Northern Lights
by terriekusugak
Summary: Dylan is from the north where its dark much of the year. She is looking into her culture as an Inuk, but also yearning for life outside her small town. She meets into the end of the Twilight Saga when her search for her culture and her capibilities line up when someone FINDS her... useful.


Mornings were a slow affair for Dylan, but that was not uncommon in the fall. This far north the sun didn't come up until 9 AM, and set by 5 PM; until spring came and it was sunny almost 24/7. Dylan shuffled her short hair out of her eyes, groaning as she turned the light on. She knew she wasn't supposed to be lazy getting out of bed, she could her Anaanatsiaq chastizing already. She dressed quickly in printed leggings and a band tshirt. No one would care at the library. She spent each day organizing and collecting Inuit literature and photos. Rankin Inlet was the hub of the Canadian North. Most people thought it was harshly cold, but she didn't think so. Her grandmother had always sewn the best homemade jackets and windpants, complete with seal skin mitts and caribou kamiks which were Inuit boots. No matter how cold it was outside if you were dressed right the day was easy. Dylan crochet her own hats, and was learning to sew, but didn't master the patience in actually completing her projects. They were littered about her room, mitts that had been cut out and halfway sewn before leaving them on the desk, slippers waiting on beaded decoration when she finally chose a colour scheme, a jacket that just needed the zipper and pockets but thats the hardest part.

Dylan was used to the slow days at the library. A few people trickled in now and then to use the computers, sometimes tourists would come to see the artifacts, photos, and books of Inuit culture. Dylan worked diligently to record Inuit history. She knew the knowledge her grandmother had was deep and vast, and Dylan only had so much time before that information was gone. Not just her grandmother, but a whole generation of people who knew the original peace of Inuit culture before colonization. Everything from sewing patterns to traditional songs to hunting practices and the proper butchering of meat. But there was always more to uncover and from so many perspectives. She felt like she was making ground breaking work, but the vindication was empty. The people who could use this information came to use facebook, the tourists were interested and impressed but could only gleam a sliver of information. She felt like she was only giving them a drop in the ocean, even if that drop was the cumulation of her life's work.

She tried to keep her thoughts light as she made a cup of tea, but she knew the seasonal depression was getting to her. Energy was hard to muster when you got to work before the sun came up, and got off work just after the sun went below the horizon. The sky was rich blue but quickly faded to black, like the promise of sunlight instead of the real thing. She had decided to wait a year to save money before she went to college, but that year had turned from one to two with no outlook of changing. There was just no leaving her grandmother. Her grandmother insisted she go discover the world, but Dylan feigned uninterest. She wouldn't tell her that she couldn't bare to have her mom look over her alone. Dylans mom Anne was around sometimes, but was forgetful and careless when it came to making ends meet. Dylan had always lived with her grandmother, and called her grandmother Anaanatsiaq, but Dylan knew that her anaanatsiaq was closer to her "mom" than her actual mom was. Her mom moved around from friends houses until she rekindled with her high school boyfriend. Dylan didn't see it, but didn't much care as long as her mom had a place to live. Anne would take up a job as a waitress and do well for a few weeks until it wasn't exciting anymore and complained about her coworkers and would just not show up. Dylan couldn't understand how she could just turn off her alarm and not go to work. She was smart and capable, but held herself back as if she was afraid to really be good. Dylan had resolved to be ambivalent about it, but it was a process.

Dylan was musing her mother when she heard someone come in, and felt the sharp chill seep in for a moment as the door closed. She was used to tourists coming in with huge store bought jackets that proved to be the warmest until you tried a light homemade one that was twice was cozy, but this man had only a thin down jacket, one that Dylan would wear in the early spring. She was sure he would be freezing but he didn't seem to mind. The second thing she noticed was that he was handsome, but in a European way. Not the usual non Inuit men that lived here. He was broad in the shoulders and had olive skin that seemed so smooth that she found herself looking for pimples or wrinkles or something. Nope, he was perfect. She was glad the library was empty, but also longed for a witness to make sure this was real. He scanned the room quickly and met her eyes as if he had recognized her. Dylan ransacked her memory, but it was like looking through a messy bedroom, lifting dirty clothes and throwing them here and there, making a bigger mess as she tried to make sence of him. She couldn't, and took that as a sign she didn't know him. I would remember this face. She noted.

"Welcome to the Qaritaq library. I'm Dylan, please let me know if you have any questions." Dylan was used to welcoming people, it was her favourite part, but she was relishing this moment.

"Hi, I'm Demetri, I think you're just what I've been looking for."


End file.
